


The Battle of Chickamauga

by bettysdryer



Category: Psych
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-27
Updated: 2012-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-06 02:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettysdryer/pseuds/bettysdryer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“But on this particular occasion, you enjoy the way my twisted little mind works, correct?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Battle of Chickamauga

“So, this is your apartment,” Shawn said, standing with his fists on his hips at the threshold. “I’d always imagined it somewhat… bigger. And with a fireplace.”

Lassiter grunted and tossed his coat on the kitchen table. “Let’s just do this. I have to be back at work in a couple hours.”

“Oh, you do? A special case you’re working on?” Shawn’s eyes lit up like he had just spotted a piece of candy.

Lassiter raised an eyebrow. “Nothing you’d be interested in. Just paperwork.”

“Oh.” Disappointed, he grabbed an apple from the basket on the table and started tossing it between his hands. “You see, that’s one of the main reasons I never wanted to be a cop - all of that boring paperwork.”

“How nice for you.” Lassiter watched him toss the apple for a few moments before he snatched it away. “If you’re done?”

“Hey!” Shawn pouted and slumped. “I was having fun with that apple. I even named it ‘Apple Friend’.”

Lassiter rolled his eyes and put it back in the basket. “Like I said. Limited time frame here. Let’s just… get it over with…” He started to head for the bedroom.

“Oh, _get it over with_? I didn’t realize this was such a _hassle_ for you, Lassie.” Shawn followed him, un-buttoning his pants on the way. “We can just call it all off, you know. Of course, then you wouldn’t be having sex _nearly_ as often as you do now, but - ”

Lassiter groaned and slammed Shawn against the wall. “You know, this _is_ quite the hassle for me. Actually.”

“So why don’t you do something about it, huh?” Shawn challenged quietly, eyebrow quirked. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, skins hot and flush, chests going up and down in synch. 

Shawn pressed himself even closer, eyebrow still quirked, a smirk curling up his cheek. “You gonna do something about it or what?”

Lassiter glared at him.

Then he kissed him furiously.

Somehow, they ended up on the bed, Shawn’s pants mysteriously missing and Lassiter’s tie in some unknown location. There was mass confusion for several minutes - a bizarre entanglement of limbs and legs sticking out at odd angles - until Shawn suddenly said, “You know, we should make this more interesting.”

Lassiter stopped what he was doing to stare at him. “Huh?”

“We should liven things up a bit. Y’know, spontaneity and all that! Let’s see…” He tapped his finger against his chin and looked around the room, clearly deep in ponderment.

Lassiter continued to stare at him in disbelief. “Do you mean you want me to use the handcuffs again?” he attempted to clarify.

“No no no, we’ve used those too many times…” Shawn managed to disentangle himself from Lassiter and began to pace around the room, looking under random objects, still tapping his chin. “Aha! I’ve got it!” He whirled around to face him, sporting a mischievous grin. “Do you still have that Civil War uniform?”

Lassiter couldn’t help it - a deep smirk spread across his face. “I like the way you think, Spencer.” He paused. “Sometimes.”

“But on this particular occasion, you enjoy the way my twisted little mind works, correct?”

“Definitely.” Lassiter sprung up from the bed and went over to his closet. “It should be somewhere in here…”

Shawn bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently as Lassiter went quickly through his clothes. “This is gonna be _so_ awesome. Wait - do you have a Confederate costume?”

“First of all, they’re not _costumes_ , they’re uniforms… and no, I don’t think so.” 

Shawn made a sad face. “Aw. That sucks. We could’ve had this awesome ‘forbidden’ thing going on - you’re a Union solider, I’m a Confederate… it’s the Battle of Chickamauga!”

“Ah! Found it,” Lassiter said, pulling out the uniform with triumph. His brows furrowed. “Wait, why the Battle of Chickamauga?”

“I dunno. It’s just a funny name. Chick-a- _mauga_!” Shawn waved his arms for no apparent reason.

Lassiter opened his mouth to say something, but then thought better of it. “Okay. It’s gonna take me a while to put this on, so if you can keep it in your pants for a couple minutes…”

“Well, I am not wearing any pants, so that might be a bit difficult. But for you, Lassie, I’d do anything.”

He rolled his eyes. “Right.” He took the uniform and headed to the connecting bathroom.

“So, it’s the Battle of Chickamauga!” Shawn shouted to him through the closed bathroom door. “We’re both behind enemy lines - I’m loading my gun, you’re fixing one of your shiny buttons, getting ready - when suddenly!” He made some dramatic hand movements. “Our eyes meet! Across the battlefield! There’s a connection - a spark! _Chemistry!_ But we can’t think about such things, not when we’re in the middle of a war! At the same time, though, it’s almost impossible to get off of our minds. As we proceed to kill the other’s comrades - ” (Shawn began pacing at this point) “- we each wonder… ‘Huh! I wonder what it’d be like to fuck that one guy?’ But we cannot! It’s _forbidden_. It’s _dangerous_. It’s… _incredibly_ hot.” He fanned himself. 

Lassiter snorted from inside the bathroom. “This is highly unrealistic. First of all, if this is truly set in the 19th century, the ‘hotness’ of the situation would _not_ be the first thing on our minds - maybe the fact that we’re both _men_ might be factored into the equation somehow? Homosexuality wasn’t - ”

“Shut up, Lassie! I’m plotting it all out in my head!” Shawn tapped his temples, clearly deep in concentration. “You see, it’s a very Romeo and Juliet thing we have going on here! We’re both from two feuding sides, two sides that absolutely despise each other, but somehow we are bound together by the plucky strings of Destiny! But how can our true love ever be reconciled? You’re from the North, I’m from the South…”

“We’re also both _men_ , in a time when homosexuality was still a _crime_ ,” Lassiter interrupted, only to be shushed immediately.

“Oh! The _dilemma!_ ” Shawn brought his hand to his forehead, striking a forlorn pose. “The _agony_! Whatever will we do, Lassie?”

Lassiter hastily did his buttons, wondering why he was even bothering to dress up properly, since the clothes would just be off in about two minutes anyway. “I don’t know, Spencer, you tell me.”

“I _will_ tell you! We sneak off to the side of the battle, see? And there, cloaked in the shadow of darkness and the sound of gunfire, we have ecstatic, wild, hot, monkey sex.”

“Fantastic!” Lassiter came out of the bathroom, fully decked in his Civil War garb. “Let’s do it.”

“No, wait! I’m not finished.”

“What else could there possibly _be_?”

“No, we have to figure out what happens afterward!”

“Yes, and we can do that after the hot monkey sex that you suggested.”

“No, no, we can’t just make it up as we go along! No, we have to work it all out first… I know!” He snapped his fingers. “We get caught right in the middle! By my commanding officer! We’re horrified, of course… we’ve each been fraternizing with the enemy, after all.”

“You seem to keep forgetting that this is 1863 and we’re _two men._ ”

Shawn continued to ignore him. “But, little did we know, the commanding officer actually wants in on the action! So, we all have an excellent little threesome.”

“But… but we don’t have a third person here.”

“Would you stop interrupting me? Anyway… after the threesome, the battle is over, and - ”

“Jesus Christ, we were all having sex for _two days_?”

“The battle is over - ”

“Wouldn’t we have gotten a little, oh, I don’t know, _tired_?”

“THE BATTLE IS OVER,” Shawn proclaimed loudly, standing up on the bed. He spread out his arms as though telling an epic tale to a crowd of people. “And the Confederates won! There are parades held in my honor! Many glorious medals are placed around my neck!”

“What - why would you have parades and medals?! You didn’t DO anything! You just had a threesome for two days!”

“Exactly, Lassie! It’s quite an accomplishment, wouldn’t you say?”

“I don’t think it deserves a goddamn _parade._ Maybe a medal, though.”

“And you get a medal, too, for participating! And I make you my love slave for eternity and forever, and we are lauded across the land for our epic valor and bravery in the face of danger.”

Lassiter ran his hand down his face. “Your… slave.”

“Yep!”

“I just… I can’t even _begin_ to… never mind.” He sighed heavily. “Are we going to do this or not?”

“In a bit - first, we must come up with what our lives were like before our fates intertwined.”

“Is all of this elaborate back-story _really_ necessary?” Goddammit, he just wanted to get laid before he had to go back to work, for fuck’s sake.

“Yes, it is. And while we’re at it, we should probably think of a title.”

“A TITLE?!”

“Of course! What kind of love story would this be without a suitable title? I’m thinking something like, ‘Carlton and Shawn’s Amazing Tale of Love, Adventure, and Hot Threesomes Behind Tents’. What do you think?”

Lassiter didn’t say anything for a while - just stood there, panting in rage.

“Lassie? Lassie? You there?” Shawn waved a hand in his face.

“Oh, I’m here, all right,” he finally said, and pulled Shawn by his feet down onto the bed, and pinned his arms down. “Now are you going to shut up so we can _do_ this already, you goddamn idiot?”

“Now, now, Lassie, that’s not a very nice thing to say,” Shawn admonished while Lassiter practically shot laser beams out of his eyes. 

“Do I have to put that cloth around your mouth again?” Lassiter asked, his voice low and threatening.

“…Maybe?” He looked slightly hopeful.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Oh, I wish to tempt you with all of my heart.”

“Fine. You asked for it.” Lassiter opened one of the drawers on the nightstand and pulled out a long, black strip of cloth. “This should be fun for _me._ ”

Finally, Shawn would _have_ to shut the hell up for once.

A "glorious" prospect indeed.


End file.
